The Edge of Something
by Psamathe
Summary: Set in Season 2. Jack and Sam are both injured during an offworld mission.


It started with a fish. Two fish to be precise. There was one on the end of Jack's line and a second flapping about on the ground behind him. A child yelled, Jack turned around stepped on said fish slipped and… there was a crack.

Teaching the kids in the village to fish had seemed like a really good idea. It gave Jack something to do whilst Daniel was conferring with the elders and kept the children out of trouble. And what could possibly go wrong with a simple fishing trip? That was until the highly dangerous, killer dead fish decided to trip Jack up.

At first, he wasn't certain which part of him had snapped. Pain and shock didn't do anything for his clarity of thought. It was one of those injuries that you try to crawl away from, forgetting for a moment that the injured limb was actually connected to your body.

After screaming for a while, Jack opened his eye to see that the children were standing over him, whispering amongst themselves as they wondered what was wrong with their new playmate.

"Go get Carter," he told them.

They stared back at him, not understanding his words. Damn it, where was Daniel when you needed him?

"Carter… blue eyes… golden hair…"

Stuck for words, Jack mimed some of her more obvious attributes. One of the kids cottoned on pretty quickly, jabbering to his friends as they all ran off towards the village. Left alone Jack tried to assess the damage. It was definitely his ankle. Whether it was torn ligaments or a break, he wasn't certain. All he knew was it hurt like hell.

Where was Carter? She was the one with the damn medical training. He just hoped she'd been practicing her splinting technique because he had the feeling that he was going to need it.

"Sir?"

Jack opened his eyes to see her scrambling down the riverbank towards him and for a moment, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He hoped she had painkillers because he needed a bucket load. But instead of giving him drugs, she crouched down beside him, reaching for his injured leg. Unable to bear the pain of her touch, Jack snatched it away.

"Let me see," she said with a note of warning in her voice. If he didn't do as she asked, Jack had the feeling that Carter would have no hesitation in leaving him there. She'd been taking lessons from Fraiser in patient control. Left with no choice in the matter, Jack gingerly extended his leg towards her.

Her hands were deft, if not gentle, as she unlaced his boot. Jack bit his lip as she examined his ankle.

"I think it's broken, sir," she said eventually, "We need to get you back to the SGC."

Jack rubbed his hands over his face. He could really do with out this right now. It had been… what … six months since he'd broken his leg tumbling through the Stargate in Antarctica. A busted ankle wasn't just unlucky it was stupid… especially when they were ten klicks from the Stargate and scheduled to be here for another week.

"How much longer is Daniel going to be?" he asked Carter, figuring that she'd know.

"It'll be at least another forty-eight hours before he's completed the initiation rites," she replied.

"Crap."

Cutting short the mission just wasn't an option. Even though these people weren't particularly sophisticated by human terms, the intell suggested that that they had a certain amount of medical knowledge that could be useful. However, they weren't exactly keen on the idea of sharing it with outsiders and Daniel was currently half way through a five-day rite of passage so he could become a member of the tribe… yada yada yada… Understandably, Jack wasn't keen on the idea of going back to the SGC and telling Hammond that they'd failed because the leader of SG-1 had been stupid enough to slip on a fish.

"Can you splint it?" Jack asked.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to do that anymore?" Carter replied.

"That was then… this is now."

"I can certainly make you more… wait a second… no way! You are not going back by yourself."

"You said it, I need to go back to base and Daniel can't stay here by himself."

Carter opened her mouth and then shut it again.

"It's only ten klicks," Jack reassured her, "I'll be fine."

She had that look about her, the one that told him that he wasn't going to get his own way.

"Teal'c can stay with Daniel," she announced.

"Captain…" Jack warned.

He didn't mind that she was countermanding his orders but sometimes it paid to let her know exactly who was boss.

"I'm not letting you go alone, sir."

"Fine," he capitulated. "Splint me and let's get started. I want to be back at the SGC by dark."

It all sounded very good; very heroic the reality however was somehow worse than he remembered. Three days crawling through the desert, Carter knew the story… what she didn't realise was that he'd been delirious most of the time. He barely remembered how he'd made the journey. Even now, he suspected he'd spent most of it going in circles. It had been luck, rather that good judgement, which had led him to safety. He certainly didn't remember this much pain.

To give Carter her due, she had made a good job of binding up his ankle, but his foot had swollen so much that he couldn't get his boot back on. Jack found himself gritting his teeth as he tried to hobble a few steps. If he showed Carter how much he was really hurting, she'd have Teal'c carry him back to the Stargate which would be… quite frankly… embarrassing. It was bad enough that Carter was carrying all of their gear whilst Jack hobbled along beside her, but the fact he was mobile meant that he could salvage some dignity.

VVVVVVVVV

It soon became obvious, to Sam at least, that they weren't going to reach the Stargate before nightfall. Colonel O'Neill was moving slowly, pain evident in every step and it was all Sam could do not to offer him her help. If she did, she knew that it would probably have the opposite of the intended effect and he'd try to push himself harder. There was no need for him to do this. If he'd been willing to cut short the mission, then SG-1 could have returned together. She'd have felt a lot more confident if Teal'c had been there. Sam knew that if Colonel O'Neill fell then there was no way that she could help. It would take a man of Teal'c's strength to get him on his feet again. Every time the Colonel stumbled, it was all Sam could to stop herself calling the whole trip off and insisting that they wait for Teal'c.

She was relieved when he did finally accept the fact that they had to stop for the night. With the light failing, the walk was becoming unacceptably dangerous. In four hours, they'd only managed to cover half the distance to the Stargate and Colonel O'Neill was exhausted. He sat on the ground with his head between his legs, whilst Sam set up the tent and cooked them a meal. The fact that he didn't passed comment on her barely adequate culinary skills spoke volumes. He barely touched the food, crawling into the tent as soon as she took it away from him.

Sam sat outside for a while, watching the moons rise, giving Colonel O'Neill the time he needed to pull himself together. She'd been tempted to slip O'Neill some sedatives with the stew but Sam knew that he'd never forgive her.

They were camped next to a stream in a wide valley. Shear cliffs rose to either side and Sam could just about make out the waterfall that crowned the head of the gorge. There was something almost peaceful about the distant roar of the water.

Colonel O'Neill was only feigning sleep when she checked on him. Sam was tired herself, but she found herself hesitating. Their sojourn in Antarctica was fresh in her mind. Since that time, Sam had been aware of something… an undefined consciousness when it came to Colonel O'Neill. The memories came back at the most inopportune moments … and it wasn't just the almost freezing to death part. The whole keeping each other warm thing hadn't quite worked out as planned. Damn it, but she'd been draped all over him. Given such provocation, any guy was going to react and Sam had done her best not to be close to him ever since. When SG-1 spent the night off world, Sam always made sure that she shared a tent with Teal'c or Daniel.

This time there were no excuses…unless she wanted to spend the night outside. It seemed however, that Colonel O'Neill was willing to make the decision for her.

"Get some sleep, Captain," his muffled voice called out, "that's an order."

"I should keep watch, sir," Sam replied.

"What for, this planet's as non-hostile as they come."

He was right about that. The Goa'uld hadn't been here in recorded history. She had no real excuse to stay outside.

"Boots on or off," she asked.

"You can take off anything you want."

Sam was glad that it was too dark for him to see her blush. Any other guy and Sam would have had a witty comeback, but there was just something about Jack O'Neill…She felt as if she were fifteen again. How dumb was she? Here she was, PhD, a Captain in the USAF and she had a crush on her CO.

"You coming to bed?" he pushed and Sam could hear the laughter in his voice.

"Another word and you're sleeping on the couch," she returned.

He chuckled as he rolled onto his back. For some reason he watched as she removed her boots.

"That's as far as it goes," Sam warned him as she crawled into her sleeping bag.

"'Night," he grinned.

Sam lay back, staring up at the canvas, listening to her CO's breathing as it steadied and slowed. Only when she'd satisfied herself that he was truly asleep did Sam try to relax.

If anything, the night was getting darker. She could no longer make out the glow of the moonlight. The last thing she heard before she slept was the patter of raindrops.

Jack was dreaming that he was back at the academy, that he'd slept in again and someone had had the bright idea of throwing a bucket of water over him.

"Sir, you have to wake up now!"

The voice was insistent, but Jack still attempted to roll over and get a couple more minutes sleep. As he did so, he jarred his ankle and the memories returned in a flood of pain.

"Shi…."

"Get up, sir!"

What the hell was she talking about? He had a broken ankle for crying out loud! And why was it so wet? Had the tent sprung a leak.

"We have to get out of here," Carter was pleading with him, pulling ineffectually at his hand in an attempt to get him to rise. Crouched over him and soaked to the skin, she was dwarfed by the pack on her back. Water was pouring from the heavens. Now his eyes were finally open, Jack could see that the tent had been torn to pieces and the area was rapidly turning into a small lake.

How he'd managed to sleep through so much of the storm he would never know, but Jack was prepared to blame a combination of exhaustion and strong pain killers.

"Come on!"

Jack could barely hear Carter's voice over the howl of the wind. The fact she dared to yell at him was enough of a kick up the backside. This time there was no macho posturing. He accepted her help, slinging his arm over her shoulders as they fled. How she managed to support him, Jack would never know. His weight, added to that of her back pack was enough to keep her doubled over.

"Where are we going?" he yelled.

Carter just pointed to the cliffs that overhung the valley. Getting to the higher ground made sense, but Jack honestly didn't know if he could make it that far. Crawling seemed to be a better bet than walking.

"There's a cave," she told him, but Jack was going to have to take her word for it. He could see a dark patch in the cliff face but he honestly couldn't tell what it was.

"Gotta stop for a second," he panted, sliding onto the sodden ground.

Even though she was relieved of his weight, Carter was still bent over. At first, he thought it was because of the rain, but he noticed she was holding her stomach. Jack found himself focussing on her hands, and the dark liquid that was oozing between her fingers.

"Carter," he began. Even though his voice was quiet, it held enough power that she couldn't ignore him. "What's wrong with your stomach?"

"It's worse than it looks," she tried to reassure him.

The front of her pants was dark with something that wasn't water and Jack knew that she was lying to him… but there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it until they reached some kind of shelter. Unwilling to lie there like a wimp whilst Carter was possibly bleeding to death, Jack hauled himself to his feet. He'd hop if he had to.

"Give me that," he said, taking the pack from her.

Jack could see the cave now, a gaping black space that offered them shelter from the deluge. Getting there was more of a problem. The slope was covered in scree and every time they took a step forward, they seemed to slide back several metres. Dodging falling rocks became an additional hazard.

He wasn't sure exactly how he noticed that Carter was on the verge of passing out. With the storm raging about them any noise she might have made was lost. One moment she was by his side and the next Jack found himself clutching hold of her collar to prevent her from tumbling backwards.

"Carter!" he yelled at her," don't do this."

But she remained oblivious. Jack was tempted to let go of the pack but he knew he would need its contents if he were to deal with her injury and his own pain. Safety was tantalisingly close. Just a few more metres… but he was going to have to climb and with one leg out of action, he needed both of his hands.

"Sam… Sam… please… you have to help me here. I can't save you by myself," he begged. "Wake up Carter and that's an order!"

Her eyelids fluttered and she opened her eyes.

"It's not much further," he told her.

Carter looked like she was about to be sick as she nodded and started to make the final ascent. Jack followed behind; ready to catch her if she fell. Who would catch him, he wasn't sure. They should never have left Teal'c and Daniel behind he knew that now. They should have gone together or not at all. Hell, he could have coped with a broken ankle for a couple of days… it would have been better than this.

He literally had to shove Carter up into the cave. Her strength gave out and she couldn't make it on her own. Not that Jack was a lot better off. Without Carter pulling him from above, he wouldn't have had the strength to haul himself up. Once inside, he couldn't afford to rest, not whilst Carter was lying there bleeding. There was a torch in the pack and Jack switched it on before reaching for the fastening on her pants. Unsure of what was happening she tried to bat his hands away.

"I'm going to have to take a look," he told her.

His words seemed to quiet her, but Jack wasn't convinced that she really knew who he was or what he was trying to do. Jack was a gentle as he possibly could be, but he knew he had to be causing her some pain. A gash five inches long ran along her lower abdomen. Although it was deep, Jack was relieved to see it didn't completely penetrate the muscles. If she'd been leaking intestines, he wouldn't have known what to do. As it was, Jack didn't exactly relish the idea of having to put sutures in.

"Okay Cater, I'm going to have to stitch you up," he said.

She just nodded, biting her lip. Trying not to think about what he was about to do, Jack searched the pack to find the first aid kit. Having to watch his own hands digging a needle into his friend's flesh turned his normally resilient stomach. He usually avoided field surgery when he could. Jack knew that he wasn't going to do as good a job as Fraiser. Carter was as tough as they came, but she couldn't quite muffle her whimpers of pain.

Jack knew they weren't the neatest set of sutures but they were doing their job and keeping the wound closed. From the looks of it, the wound was likely to scar but there wasn't much Jack could do about that. He dressed the wound, and was relieved when the dressing didn't immediately stain with blood. Carter tried to sit up so she could take a look, but Jack placed a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, I'm done," he told her. "Get some sleep."

"You… sir?"

"I'll live. You did good, Carter."

"Yes sir," she mumbled as her eyes closed.

The storm passed in the night. When Sam woke, the sun was shining into the mouth of the cave and she was alone. Immediately concerned, she tried to sit up but decided better of it when pain forced her to remember her wound. It had been so damn stupid. A rookie mistake. She recalled being in the tent and being woken by the storm. Realising that they needed to find somewhere else to shelter she'd left Jack alone whilst she'd scouted the area.

Spotting the cave had been a godsend, but she'd been so busy looking up that she'd missed her footing. She still didn't know exactly what she had cut herself on, but there were plenty of flint-like stones lying about. Whatever, it had sliced right through her pants and into her flesh. She could feel it now even whilst laying still, a dull ache every time she inhaled. Sam remembered Colonel O'Neill sewing her up, which was probably the reason that she was still alive. Which begged the question... where the hell was he?

With a broken ankle, he couldn't have gotten far. Then again, one never quite knew what to expect where O'Neill was concerned. Even though it hurt, Sam managed to push herself to her knees then, using the wall of the cave for leverage, onto her feet. Still supporting herself on the rocky walls, she shuffled towards the entrance.

Her eyes took several moments to adjust to the brightness outside. It wasn't just the sun. The valley below was almost flooded and the light reflected from the surface of the water was dazzling. Ironically, she could see the Stargate in the distance. They hadn't actually been that far away from it but right now, the mass of water between it and them, made it completely inaccessible. Unless they could build a boat…

"Sir?" she called out.

There was no immediate reply, but she was quickly reassured when she heard someone approaching the cave. Colonel O'Neill duly appeared, supporting himself on a tree branch, with a bundle of smaller sticks clutched against his chest. He dropped them on the floor by the cave entrance before hobbling to her side.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Okay," Sam replied.

"Carter…?"

Sam knew better than to lie to him.

"A little sore… a little feverish," she admitted.

He laid an experienced hand on her forehead.

"You feel a little hot," he agreed as he reached into his vest pocket.

Sam obediently swallowed the pills and gratefully accepted a gulp of water from the Colonel's bottle.

"I tried to get hold of Daniel and Teal'c," he went on.

"And?"

"Nothing. I think the freaky weather has futzed with the radios. They'll come looking for us eventually… when they realize that we haven't made it back to the SGC."

"Until then?"

"Well… we're okay for water."

She wished she could share his optimism. He'd been the same when they'd been stranded in Antarctica. In the face of disaster Colonel O'Neill was the one who kept her motivated… kept her from despair. She knew that they didn't have much in the way of food but the human body could survive a relatively long time without that commodity.

"You want me to take a look at your…" he began, trailing off as he gestured towards the area where she'd been injured.

"Only if I can re-splint your ankle," she replied.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours… fair enough."

Sam had, so far, avoided looking at her wound but the morbid curiosity overcame her as she let Jack lift her shirt. What she saw turned her stomach. The row of stitches was ragged and the edges of the wound were already inflamed. Sam wasn't particularly body conscious, but she knew without a doubt that she would have an unsightly scar. The Colonel must have sensed her discomfort because he quickly covered her up again. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad. He had saved her life and a scar was a small price to pay. Reaching out, Sam laid her hand over his,

"It's alright sir. I was never one for bikinis," she told him.

Rebinding the Colonel's ankle was more of a problem. In the end, he had to do it himself because Sam was unable to crouch down beside him. She felt so damn helpless. At least Colonel O'Neill was still mobile… up to a point. He had to be hurting too, but he didn't seem to let that little detail get in the way of taking care of her.

Ordered to stay where she was in case she ripped her stitches, Sam was forced to watch whilst he hobbled in and out of the cave, fetching wood and water. Sometime during the afternoon, she heard a single gunshot. An hour later, Colonel O'Neill came back dragging something large and dead. He looked particularly proud of himself as he set about building a fire and cooking his kill. The meat was burnt, but still tasted better than their MREs.

As night fell, the wind picked up and Sam started to appreciate the fire. It also started to rain again, dashing their hopes that the floodwaters might recede overnight. Having left their sleeping bags behind, they were forced to rely on thermal blankets which, although effective, weren't nearly as comfortable… at least as far as Sam was concerned.

Colonel O'Neill had spread one on the ground leaving the other to cover themselves. Sam hadn't had any problem using the same strategy when they'd been stranded in Antarctica but this felt different somehow. She was far more aware of the body lying next to her, of whom he was and what he meant to her. Sam wasn't used to relying on anyone. She considered herself highly independent, but right now she depended on Colonel O'Neill completely and she wasn't certain that she liked the feeling.

He fell asleep before she did, worn out by the exertions of his day. Sam had insisted that he'd taken a dose of painkillers. He'd argued about it but eventually given in, albeit with bad grace. Sam had figured that the Colonel had to be hurting more than she was. The nagging ache deep in her gut was enough to keep her awake, but it was a long way from broken bones digging into nerves and muscles. If she lay very, very still it was just about manageable. Eyes open, Sam could do nothing but watch the play of the firelight on the walls of the cavern. It wouldn't last the night.

As the embers died, Sam started to feel the cold. Desperately aware of the warm body lying next to her, she pulled the blanket a little closer about her. No sooner had she edged the covers a few centimetres in her direction than Colonel O'Neill hauled them back again. It was almost a relief when he finally shifted in his sleep. With a sigh, he rolled over, his free arm coming to rest just below her breasts, his face turned towards hers. Sam tensed at the unfamiliar contact but when he showed no signs of moving again, she decided to relax and enjoy. She certainly wasn't cold anymore.

VVVVVVVV

Jack felt a certain amount of confusion when he woke up. On the one hand, he knew that the surface beneath him was too hard to be a bed, on the other there was someone pressed against him. Or make that he was pressed… it was definitely him doing the pressing. Of course, he could have solved the mystery by opening his eyes, but he didn't want to do that. Reality would intrude and he would have to move away from the woman, from Carter. He wasn't that far gone that he didn't recall who it was.

Lying next to here, smelling wood smoke and wind and rain, Jack could pretend he was somewhere else… someone else. Someone who hadn't fatally screwed up his one chance of happiness. There was a desire for something so sweet that he'd never be able to put it into words. But the one thing that came to his mind was, why her? Why Carter? It didn't seem like much to ask but his mind refused to come up with the answers. Sometimes he wished he could still see her as the pain in the ass scientist of their early acquaintance.

Despite the fact they were stranded on an alien planet, both injured with supplies running low, he couldn't help feeling a certain amount of contentment. That was until he noticed that Carter's eyes were open. She was regarding him with the confusion she reserved for one of her complicated experiments. Embarrassed, Jack pulled away from her with the rough words,

"I gotta take a leak."

Using the tree branch he'd found the day before as a makeshift crutch, Jack hobbled outside, hoping that the fresh air would clear his head. He stood outside the cave letting the rain wash away the last of his inappropriate thoughts. Carter was just another soldier he reminded himself, nothing more.

Staring out across the valley, Jack realised how bleak their situation had become. There would be no fire or hot meal tonight. They were in no immediate danger. It was just damned depressing. Jack stood there for longer than he should. He knew that Carter would probably need his help, but he was slightly too embarrassed to go back in. Just for something to do, he tried the radio again. The static almost deafened him but he shouted into it anyway,

"Daniel? Teal'c? You out there?"

He thought he heard a reply but the voice was so distorted that he couldn't tell who was speaking.

"Carter's hurt… we can't make it back to the 'gate…"

God only knew if anyone was listening or not. Jack gave sketchy details of their location and he thought he heard someone answer… or he hoped he did. The weather seemed to be in tune with his black mood because the rain just wasn't letting up. Jack started to limp towards the cave; he was going to have to go back eventually and it might as well be now. He thought he caught a glimpse of blonde hair in the darkness. Had Carter been watching him? And for how long? Jack wasn't sure if he liked that idea. She shouldn't be moving around so much… then again neither should he. Whatever, he'd been standing in the rain for a while now and didn't particularly want a dose of pneumonia.

Jack admitted that he was preoccupied as he struggled up the slope, but that was no excuse for his next ultimately dumb move. That and the second night of rain had something to do with it. He was almost at the cave when the ground started to slide beneath his feet.

Looking up Jack could see a mass of mud and rock descending towards him. If he'd chosen to dive right or left, he could have avoided the landslide but the cave was right in its path. Jack threw himself forward wanting to get to Carter … wanting… he didn't know what. If he'd been able to jump with both feet then he might have made it. Instead, he found himself sprawled in the entrance of the cave dirt pouring down onto his exposed body. Jack tried to crawl forwards but was unable to find purchase on the slippery ground. Then a strong hand gripped his and Jack found himself being dragged through the cascading mud and into the cave.

As he lay there, spitting mud out of his mouth and wondering why the world had suddenly gone dark, a voice said,

"Sir… I think I busted my stitches."

VVVVVVVV

Dying. It was an odd sensation, Sam decided. Of course she had no evidence that she was actually about to meet her maker but unless they were rescued in the next couple of hours… the Colonel would last a bit longer. He, at least, was in no imminent danger of bleeding to death. There hadn't been any sutures left in the first aid kit. Colonel O'Neill had done his best with the dressings available but he hadn't been able to stem the flow of blood completely.

At any other time, this might have been a dangerously intimate situation. Colonel O'Neill was sitting against the wall of the cave and Sam was sitting against Colonel O'Neill. Her head had fallen back against his shoulder and she could feel his breath on her cheek. He had both hands clasped across her stomach, keeping pressure on the wound. For once, Sam was glad of the lack of light. She couldn't see her blood oozing between his fingers.

Sam wished that there were another way. A firefight, a blaze of glory… was there ever an easy way to die? At least there wasn't anyone waiting for her back home. Her Dad had lymphoma. Her brother… a niece and a nephew who barely knew who she was. Sam wondered if they'd even bother to turn up to the funeral.

"Carter… you still with me?" Colonel O'Neill questioned, probably worrying that she had been silent for a little too long.

"Still here, sir," Sam replied.

"That's good to know. I'd hate to be lost here by myself."

"Why's that, sir?"

"It would be boring."

She started to giggle, but stopped abruptly. Laughing hurt. Even though they weren't going to make it out of here alive, Sam was glad that he was here.

"So Carter," he went on, "what are you going to do when we get out."

"You mean after Dr. Fraiser lets me out of the infirmary," Sam replied willing to humour him for a while.

"Okay… after that."

Sam didn't even have to think about her answer.

"Steak," she said. "No offence, sir but I think animal du jour disagreed with me."

"O'Malley's in town does the best steaks in Colorado Springs we'll all go... my shout."

"It's a date, sir."

Somehow, Sam couldn't stop her voice from cracking. She'd like noting better than to go out with Teal'c, Daniel and the Colonel but it was never going to happen.

"Hey," Colonel O'Neill whispered, "we'll get out of here, I promise."

"Yes sir," Sam replied.

There were tears on her face and Sam hoped that the Colonel hadn't noticed. She was trying her hardest to be strong. Right now, his opinion of her was more important than ever. Sam knew she hadn't been the perfect soldier. She had faltered more times than she wanted to remember. Dying with dignity was about all that was left. At least she wasn't alone.

"Sir?" she questioned.

"I'm not going anywhere, Carter," he replied.

"Talk to me."

He shifted uncomfortably behind her.

"What about?" he asked.

"Anything… I…"

Sam didn't want to admit that she found the sound of his voice comforting.

"Nothing much to say about me, Carter. I'm just an ordinary Minnesota boy."

"I thought you were from Chicago?"

"That wasn't where I was born."

"Tell me about Minnesota."

And he did. Sam smiled to herself as he described the lakes, the valleys, and the forests. She could hear the love in his voice. He must hate being here, stuck underground, out of reach of the sky.

"It sounds beautiful. I wish I could see it," she said when he had finished.

"You will Sam," he promised, "you will."

Sam… he never seemed to call her that anymore and for a ridiculous moment, she wondered why. Then she felt it, the brush of lips against her cheek. Without really meaning to Sam turned her head. She only wanted to return what she knew was a friendly gesture, but before she realised what was happening her lips met his. Sam blamed the blood loss, blamed the dark, and blamed a whole lot of things but she couldn't think of any reason why she didn't pull away from the kiss. Or why she didn't apologise when they finally had to come up for air.

She snuggled up to the Colonel, tucking her head into his neck. As dying went, this wasn't a bad way to go, she decided. The last thing she remembered was someone throwing dirt into her face and a voice crying out,

"I've found them!"

VVVVVVVV

What happened in the cave stayed in the cave at least that was what Jack told himself as he watched Carter shovel steak into her mouth. She certainly wasn't a woman who picked at her food. Somehow, that only made her more endearing. True to his promise, Jack had taken the whole team out to O'Malleys. They had steaks, good conversation… if it weren't for something unspoken between himself and Carter, Jack would have found the evening just about perfect.

There hadn't really been a good opportunity, he realised. She'd only been released from the infirmary that afternoon and Jack hadn't been on the base for several days. The fact he was still on crutches meant that he wasn't going to be back on active duty for a couple of weeks. There was plenty of time to sort things out with Carter… one way or the other. The problem was that Jack didn't exactly know how he wanted this to end. Although he valued Carter as a soldier, a certain part of him was eager to get to know her in other ways. Since she had trouble meeting his gaze, he wondered if she was thinking the same.

When Carter volunteered to drive him home, Jack knew that he was in trouble. It passed pleasantly enough. They chatted about inconsequential things, base gossip and possible new missions and Jack realised how much he appreciated being able to talk to her about such things. So much so that when they pulled up in front of his house, he felt he had to ask,

"Do you want to come in?"

Jack knew that he sounded dumb, like some adolescent on a first date hoping to get laid. It was almost a relief when Carter shook her head.

"I can't."

It was enough. Jack didn't need an explanation. Carter had made her choice; SG-1 rather than Jack O'Neill and he couldn't find it in his heart to blame her. Trying to conceal his disappointment, he eased himself out of the car. He didn't know what made him ask,

"One day… when you're ready… if you want to… I'd love to show you Minnesota?"

Carter's smile was tonic to an ailing man.

"I think I'd like that," she replied, "one day."

"One day," Jack repeated.

He would hold her to that. In his mind, he saw a picture of Carter at his cabin. She was sitting on the dock, a fishing rod in her hands and Jack was sat beside her. The vision made him catch his breath… and gave him the strength to turn away. One day, he repeated to himself.

One day.


End file.
